


Being So Normal

by Underwater_Alien



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:19:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underwater_Alien/pseuds/Underwater_Alien
Summary: Years after meeting at Camp Campbell, Max, Neil, and Nikki have all gone their separate ways. Max is working at a pizzeria in the city, making minimum wage and looking for a way out of his spiraling mental state. His escape comes, one Friday night, in the form of an unexpected visitor. And suddenly, he finds himself right back where he started.





	1. Old Friends and New Beginnings

Max was going to kill someone. Anyone. Just one more dirty dish and he was going to snap, he was sure of it. 

It had been a long time coming, if he was being honest, ever since he’d started working this shitty pizza shop job six months ago. The customers were awful, proper heating and cooling were practically nonexistent, his co-workers sucked, and he spent all of his time thanklessly scrubbing away at the grossest food-covered trays and silverware he’d ever seen. And all for minimum wage. 

To while away the hours, he thought about all the things he would like to do. Steal, vandalize, light the place on fire. Anything to occupy his whirring mind. At least once a day he fantasized about sneaking into the walk-in freezer just down the hall to escape the blistering summer heat, but he knew he couldn't risk being caught off-duty and end up losing another job. Not so soon after the last one. And not with rent due next week.

He scraped at a particularly nasty-looking patch of grease on the pan he was holding, as if ridding himself of it was the only thing that mattered. He knew things could be worse. He wasn’t stupid. But somehow, at moments like these, he forgot. 

But that was when things got worse.

“Maaax…” The drawling voice of Scott, the asshole regional manager, came drifting around the corner like an unpleasant smell. Max soured.

“What?”

When Scott didn't answer, Max swore under his breath, wiped his wet hands on his shirt, and made for the front of the store. Everything looked normal at first- the grill was sending out orders at a decent pace, the oven was full to the brim with pizzas, and nearly every phone in the store was either ringing or currently being talked into by another employee. Utter chaos.  _ Yep _ , Max thought, annoyed.  _ Another typical Friday in paradise _ . But that was before he saw the window.

Handprints, and sticky-looking ones at that, decorated the floor-to-ceiling window at the front of the store. The very same window he’d just finished cleaning two hours ago. Max wondered aloud why people would bother to bring their toddlers to restaurants instead of simply hiring someone to pawn them off on. Or leaving them home alone. After all, that was what his parents had always done. And he’d turned out fine.

It was a minute or two before Max’s attempts to wipe up the mess with paper towels started to work, and another minute or two before he was so completely lost in thought that he didn’t notice the pair of handsome brown shoes appear beside him.

“Excuse me,” said a voice. Max didn’t respond. Spray, wipe, toss. Spray, wipe, toss.

“Max?”

That caught Max’s attention. He whirled around, opening his mouth to speak- to ask whoever this was, in the most polite way he could, what the  _ fuck _ he wanted- when he stopped suddenly. Staring him in the face was someone he never expected to see, especially not at this time of year or in this part of the city. But nonetheless, there he was.

_ He looks young _ , Max noted, looking him up and down.  _ Young but stressed _ . 

He was also tall, thin, and lanky, although a bit more filled out than he had been the last time they’d met, and a caramel-colored beard was just beginning to sprout unevenly on his chin, a sign that he hadn’t been taking care of himself. _Of course he hasn’t,_ Max almost laughed. He’d grown at least a few feet, and hadn’t cut his hair in a while, but he was still the same. Their eyes met, taking in the effects that time had had on each other, admiring the way they’d both grown up since they’d last seen one another. Max was the first to break the silence.

“It’s good to see you again, Neil.”

 

~~~

 

“A camp counselor? A fucking  _ camp counselor _ ?”

“I know, I know. While working on a degree in astrophysics, it just doesn’t make sense.”

Max released his grip on the edge of the table and leaned back into the booth. He breathed a loud sigh of disbelief. 

“That’s not what I was going to say at all.”

Neil cocked his head.

“Well, what were you going to say?”

“That you’re the biggest nerd I’ve ever met,” Max laughed. “And that I missed you.”

“Max, stop, we're in public.”

He was blushing. Max would never admit it, but he'd really missed having that kind of effect on someone, even if he didn’t understand why.

“Well, it's true.” Max said simply.

A car drove noisily past the window to their right, the gravel road crunching beneath its tires. The room was bathing in the warm light of the sinking sun, making everything look sort of altered and strange, not like Max had ever seen it before. Still and perfect, the way a music box sounds in an empty room.

Their legs brushed against each other under the table. Neil started.

“Cut it out. But really though, I was serious about what I said earlier. You should think about coming up to visit this weekend.”

Max only shrugged and looked at his shoes.

“Eh, maybe. I don't know. I don't get off of work until 11 on Saturday.”

_ And I can’t afford to put that much gas in the car. _

“Nikki will be there,” Neil said, catching Max by surprise. His tone was singsong, playful.  And damn if that adorable look on his face wasn't all the convincing Max needed. But he wasn't about to admit that either.

“I'll think about it.”

“Good.”

Without another word, Neil rose from the table and walked out of the restaurant, the bell over the door ringing softly, the punctuation of a sentence he wasn’t aware he’d started. Not for the first time, Max found himself alone. Confused. And the only trace of Neil’s presence, the only thing that could convince Max that all of this had not been a dream, was a single piece of white paper- the ripped corner of a cheap napkin- a phone number scrawled onto it in pen. Above it, the words:

 

See you soon. 

 

Neil.


	2. Empty Beds

Empty Beds. Empty rooms, empty tents, and empty fields. And everywhere silence. God, how he hated this part of the job.

“Two weeks,” David sighed to himself, more to hear the sound of his voice than anything else. The words echoed. Laying down on his bed, he reveled in the feeling of it sinking beneath his weight and greeting him like an old friend, as though, if no one else did, it would always remember him. “Just two more weeks.”

His eyes roved the ceiling above. There were the cobwebs he'd sworn to clean off but never did, the scorch marks undoubtedly left over from all of the times he or the campers had caused a fire, the deep, blooming scratches that he couldn't hope to explain but that made him smile nonetheless. He reached up to trace their pattern, feeling suddenly heavy as a stone.

In the bathroom mirror, David saw himself for the first time. Saw the purple bags beneath his eyes,  the crow's feet forming at their corners that betrayed his age, and on his chin the beginnings of a scruffy red beard.

“God, you're getting old,” his reflection spat. The words felt more real now that he’d said them out loud. The lead ball in his stomach grew, and threatened to pull him to the ground.

He needed to call Gwen. 

~

“David?”

He drew a sharp breath. So she had picked up after all.

“Good morning, Gwen! I was just calling to ask which blanket you wanted me to put on your bed. The green one is spoken for, but I’ve still got blue, yellow, and red.”

“Oh.” She paused. “David...”

“I was pretty sure you’d say red, but I thought I’d ask anyway, since the yellow one does have birds on it.”

“David, wait.”

“Which actually reminds me of that one time we-”

“ _David!_ For fuck’s sake!"

White noise on the other line. The distant sound of an office phone ringing. He bit back what was left of his rambling speech.

“I’m sorry,” she started again. “But we’ve been over this. I really can’t, you know I can’t.”

He should have expected this. Of course she wasn’t about to drop everything just for him. She had a life now. But somehow hearing it from her mouth hurt a thousand times worse than anything he could have said to himself.

“Right. Yeah. I know, I just thought maybe this year…”

David trailed off, not wanting to risk being betrayed by an inopportune voice crack. Neither of them said anything for a moment, and David listened to the atmosphere of the publishing firm, tinny and muffled in the background. He wondered why Gwen didn't hang up. He wondered why he didn’t either.

_But you promised,_ he wanted to say. _You promised you’d always be here. And I believed it._

Why had he taken her for granted? All those years of running the camp side by side, and never once had he told her how beautiful her eyes were. Or how it twisted up his insides every time she gave him a small smile over her shoulder. Never. Instead, he’d waited, and watched when she thought he couldn’t see, and told himself one day he’d do it.

“I have to go,” she said finally, a little softer this time. Apologetic. “I'm sorry, David. It was nice talking to you.”

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“I wish you were here.” 

“Goodbye, David.”

~~~

Max turned the dial on the radio as high as it would go. He floated in it, the pulsing rhythm holding him like a tide, and thought of nothing else. He took the same route home, and pulled into the apartment parking lot at the same time he always did.

He dreamed he was falling and awoke on the couch, the television still shouting and the early morning sunlight streaming through the curtains onto the cluttered floor. He dressed in a haze, head spinning from whatever it was he’d done last night. His car keys hung on a nail by the front door.

On his way into work he passed a man washing a table, a young girl preparing frozen dough, and at least three people doing absolutely nothing at all. None of them bothered to look up as he walked by, but it was just as well since he was entirely positive he couldn’t have named a single one of them if he tried.

Then closing time came, and he did it all again.

Sometimes, though, he didn’t wake up at all. And on these days he was grateful for his skill in lying. Saturday he stayed at home, not violently ill as he’d told Scott, but laying on the floor squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to fall asleep. It was quiet, save for the rushing of pipes above his head and the distant drilling some streets away, and he resented this. He hated to hear his own thoughts, and hated where they led him, down tunnels and over bridges that all inevitably ended in the same place: the question of why he was still here.

But today, he discovered something that quite possibly saved his life. From among the piles of useless trash that surrounded him, he pulled a single scrap of torn napkin, and remembered. Had it been days? Weeks? _Fuck._ His phone told him the day was June thirtieth. He took a deep breath and began to type.

~~~

David wandered the deserted fields for what felt like the hundredth time since last August, the grass and dirt intimately familiar beneath his feet. He sat on the end of the dock and watched the purple water lap at the shores like a gentle urge. He walked between the green tables in the mess hall, as if looking for a place to sit, imagining all of the children’s smiling faces and the cacophony of laughter and speech bouncing off of the walls as they ate. It must have been dinner time, David realized, but he wasn’t hungry. He meandered every hallway, opened every closet he could find, to put off having to face the counselors’ cabin alone again. He found cleaning supplies that smelled like lemons and bedsheets that were cool and soft beneath his touch, and once or twice he found a toy that had no doubt been tucked away in a childish prank between campers and never recovered. It was in the very last of these closets, though, that he discovered Mr. Honeynuts.

He reached down and shifted the rolls of paper towels to get a better look at the thing. It was dusty and faded, but he knew from the first glance that he wasn’t mistaken. He grabbed it by the arm and carried it back to the counselors’ cabin without uttering a sound, only stopping once he’d tucked it beneath the blue blanket on the top of the corner bed. The bed he’d so lovingly made, despite knowing it wasn’t likely to ever be filled.

“Sleep tight,” he told it, and turned out the lights.

~~~

Max turned to face his apartment one last time. In his head it was a poetic goodbye, like something out of a black-and-white movie; the lingering over-the-shoulder glance at a former lover as he walked through an airport terminal, never to be seen again.

But the empty potato chip bags littering the floor begged to differ.

He wasn’t sure whether it was really pathetic, then, the way he was holding on to this one insignificant piece of his life. A part of him had grown comfortable in this apartment, reluctant to even get up off of the couch, much less pack up and ditch it all in one night. But here he was, with his backpack full of questionably clean clothing and his car keys clenched so tightly in his hand that they might have been cutting into his skin, nearly tearing up at the sight of his darkened room.

Table, window, television; empty couch, empty kitchen, empty bed. And everywhere silence.


	3. Opening Day

For the first time in his life, David was not the first one awake.

From the counselors’ cabin window he could see a beat-up silver car make its way up the pathway, and hear the crunch of dirt and rocks under its wheels. When Neil and Nikki climbed out of it he could hardly see their faces behind the piles of things loading their arms. Apparently the town grocery store carried at least seven different brands of brightly colored cereals.

They’d arrived around noon yesterday, David remembered, smiling to himself. They’d slept in this room with him. He must have been so lonely that their presence had comforted him enough for a full night’s rest; And after so long drifting about this camp like a ghost, today was the day he finally started to feel alive again.

“She actually hates playing Super Mario with me,” he heard Nikki say as he rounded the corner towards the mess hall. “I’m fucking ruthless. I never lose.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and she quickly dumped everything she’d been carrying onto one of the tables in a heap.

“ _Sure_ you don’t,” came Neil’s teasing response.

David stopped in the doorway and watched. A glaring look, a light punch to the shoulder, then they both laughed. They were sitting atop one of the long green tables, the first and only citizens of their very own Cardboard Box City. At Nikki’s elbow lay what looked like several identical pairs of jeans, all of them faded and torn with age, and at Neil’s, books with long titles and ornate golden illustrations of ivy leaves creeping up the spines. Between both, blankets and pillows and backpacks full of enough clothes to last the summer. It was so, so good to see them again.

“Well next time you call Ered tell her I said hi.” Neil fiddled absentmindedly with the corner of one of the boxes while Nikki laughed at something on her phone.

“I will. Although I’m not sure when she’ll be able to talk; she’s supposed to have interviews with, like, seven different magazines today.”

“Mm.”

David took a step forward, determined to join in on the conversation, but before he got the chance, the topic had shifted. He froze.

“Have you talked to Max much, since…?”

Nikki was leaning on one fist, arm propped up on her knee, and though he couldn’t see her eyes, David recognized the tone of her voice and knew she was serious.

“No, no. He’s… mostly been ignoring me. But it’s alright, I’m sure he’ll show up eventually.”

“You think?”

Neil didn’t answer. All three people in the room knew what he was thinking, though: that it would be just like Max to leave everybody waiting, wondering, and then not show. He’d done it before.

“Hey there, kiddos.” David picked this, of all moments, to announce his presence. He sat gingerly down on the table next to theirs, for some reason feeling it inappropriate to make a loud sound. Then, with all the probing gentleness of a school guidance counselor: “Who died?”

They laughed, but it was a forced sound. The air in the room was thick with an odd sort of sadness that none of them could quite put into words.

“Hopefully nobody did,” Neil finally said. “We’re just discussing whether or not Max is going to come. I mean, he’s texted me a few times since the restaurant, but never really said much.”

He held up his phone screen so that David could see it. _Hi, Neil._ He read. Days later, _you’re cute_ , then _shut up_ and _hey nerd._ To all of these he saw that Neil had written long paragraphs, which were usually ignored and then followed, sometimes weeks afterward, by another short introduction. It was as if Max had amnesia and every so often he forgot everything they’d been talking about and started over. It was strange, to say the least. David furrowed his brow. Under the last thing Neil had sent, there was the little grey text, _read 1:24 am._

“You asked him to come?” David chewed his lip unconsciously as Neil stared back at him and shrugged.

“I was sick of waiting for him to get his shit together and come on his own.”

David thought back to the day he’d found Mr. Honeynuts, dusty and disheveled, at the bottom of one of the supply closets. He remembered clearly how he’d felt, though he couldn’t have placed a label on it. All he knew was that tucking in that little bear, the way he’d done for so many young campers over the years, had made him suddenly and uncontrollably break down sobbing.  Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he was closer to giving up and finally shutting down the camp than he thought. But he needed to see Max one more time. He needed his camper back.

 

~

 

He adjusted the banner once more. Then again. And again. It never quite hung straight.

“I think it’ll be okay, David,” Nikki laughed from behind him. She took another bite of her sandwich, watching him with brows raised as he tried over and over to pull the cloth into a symmetrical shape. “I promise, nobody’s gonna notice if the letters are a little bit off.”

“Easy for you to say,” David huffed, climbing down from his stepladder. “Everything has to be perfect, or else the new campers won’t feel welcome, and we definitely can’t have that.”

As he turned his attention back to his fruitless endeavor, Neil came traipsing out of the mess hall, butter knife in hand, looking like he’d just lost a bet.

“Nikki, did we seriously not buy peanut butter? I mean, I know it’s an allergy thing, but...” He stopped, looking upwards. His eyes narrowed. “Hm. David, your banner’s off.”

 

~

 

“Okay,” Nikki said triumphantly. She had her hands on her hips the way Campbell used to. “The first bus is coming in..twelve hours. And everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be. Right, David?” She looked over at the man who had been sitting on the end of his bed looking worried for at least half an hour now.

“Yeah. Uh huh,” He said halfheartedly. He didn’t even take his eyes off of where they were fixed on the wall.

One look at him and Nikki knew. She sat next to him on the mattress, and put a warm hand on his slumped shoulder.

“You should get some rest,” She said. “It’s not going to do anyone any good if you spend the entire first day of camp exhausted and stressed out.”

Her eyes met David’s and it hit him like a train: she was twenty-three now, only one year younger than he’d been when they first met. Had he been this mature at her age? Not likely. He’d been such a child, so full of energy and love for life. Now he was just pathetic.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said. And he meant it. He was going to take a shower, shave what was left of his almost-beard, and do any last-minute preparations that he’d somehow overlooked the first thirty times. He was going to get his old life back if it killed him.

“Good,” Nikki said, yawning, and watched him walk off. “Good. And I’m going to sleep.”

 

~

 

When David looked up, he saw the moon. Silvery white and not quite full, hanging above the silhouette of the trees and sending soft streams of light cascading across the dirt road in front of him. And there was Neil.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Neil lifted his head in surprise, and David could see twin streaks down the sides of his face. He nodded and swallowed hard.

“Sorry,” he said, swiping at his tears. “I thought you were going to bed.”

David didn’t know how to respond at first, taken aback by the thought of Neil sitting out here all night, waiting and waiting. Watching the sky until it turned pink. Waiting all night and getting nothing.

“I don’t think he’s coming, Neil.” David all but whispered the words, sitting down beside Neil in a sort of solidarity. His hand came to rest on Neil’s shoulder, exactly how Nikki had done for him only an hour or two ago. He was certain that she would want him to feel comforted. But she would also want him to know the truth. Even if it hurt.

“I know,” Neil responded, so quietly that David almost didn’t hear him. “But I wanted to believe that, for once, maybe he cared enough to. Guess that was pretty naïve, huh?”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah, but why do I always end up wasting my time being sweet to people who don’t give a shit about me, you know?”

“I know that feeling all too well.” David let out a long breath that he hadn’t meant to hold. Neil gave him a quizzical look, then made a face.

“Oh my god, you’re talking about Gwen, aren’t you?” David played with the dirt under his fingers.

“Don’t worry about it. Like you said, she doesn’t care. So let’s not bother, okay?” He stood up when he said this, and extended a hand to help Neil up. “Let’s just go to bed, and worry about all this tomorrow.”

Their hands linked, Neil squeezing David’s with more confidence than either of them expected, and got to his feet. He took one last look at the darkened horizon and saw headlights.


	4. Back to Normal

Neil had Max in a bear hug before he’d even stepped out of the car.

“Bastard,” he laughed into Max’s ear. “I really thought..”

“I know. I’m sorry.” His hands were on Neil’s back, Neil’s were on his, and they swayed. David watched from a distance, smiling. And for a moment everything was all right.

Then David went to bed, and it was just them. It took some time, but Max and Neil eventually started to make their way inside, Neil offering to carry Max’s stuff, and Max admitting that he’d only brought the one bag.

“You’re joking,” Neil said, looking in at the trash-littered backseat of Max’s car just to be sure. “No, of course you aren’t.” He sighed. “You’re so stupid sometimes, you know that?”

“Yeah, I deserve that.” Max ran a hand through his hair, suddenly wishing he had showered before he’d left. It had been a while since he’d had anyone to impress.

“Listen, we should go to sleep. Opening day is tomorrow,” Neil said, too relieved to rag on Max any further. He glanced at his watch. “Technically today, actually. God, we’re gonna be so tired when we wake up.”

Cicadas buzzed in the forest, filling the gaps between their sentences, making the air feel alive with the kind of possibility Max hadn’t felt in a long time. His face lit up.

“Who says we have to wake up?”

“Oh no. Absolutely not.” Neil was horrified, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Max saw the brief spark of an idea go off in his friend’s head, and if there was one thing he knew he did well, it was keep a fire going.

“Come on, Neil. It’ll be just like old times. Kind of. Except that this time, I brought alcohol.” He threw in one of his signature tongue-biting grins and he knew he had it in the bag. Neil halfheartedly protested but didn’t put up a fight as Max grabbed two bottles from his trunk and led him behind the quartermaster store to an old wooden ladder which they both climbed. Max let Neil go second, to prove that it wasn’t going to break, and shuffled his way along the tile roof until he could see the entire camp from where he stood. A faint, warm glow was coming from the counselors’ cabin, the only other light between the forest and the vast expanse of stars that stretched above their heads.

“You’ve been up here before?” Neil asked, inching carefully along behind him.

“Yep. Makes a good hiding place when you’ve pissed someone off.” Max sat down, and patted the space next to him invitingly. It was difficult to see in the low light, but he could tell that Neil’s hands were shaking. He flashed what he hoped was a reassuring look. “Now quit twinkle-toeing around and open a beer with me, okay?”

~

David was happy. He was. But he couldn’t deny that it hurt to see Max and Neil hit it off without so much as a second look in his direction. Max had said hello, sure, but after everything he’d been through this year, David had expected something more. He had to believe that wasn’t crazy.

He pulled back the sheets on his bed and climbed into it, grateful at least for its warm embrace and comforting smell. Only a few feet away, he could see Nikki sleeping soundly, her limbs hanging over the bed like a bear. On the wall she’d already hung up a photo of herself and Ered, smiling wide from the finish line of a treetop ropes course. He remembered catching a glimpse of her phone’s lock screen the other day and seeing the same two happy faces staring up at him. Whatever those two had, it was special. The kind of thing he used to think he had with Gwen. Or Bonquisha.

He felt his phone vibrate, but found that it was a telemarketer. He briefly considered picking it up, but instead just lay there and let it pass. Someday overthinking was going to kill him.

~~~

The first bus pulled into the dirt lot at around eleven a.m., and as always David waited for it with his arms open. By his side were Max, Neil, and Nikki, their faces painted with equally big smiles, looking for all the world like they were ready for the best summer of their lives. David felt that too.

“Hello, new campers!” He shouted. A few of them shouted back. One even ran up and hugged him.

“Aw, David, that one likes you,” Nikki said. The girl with her arms around David’s legs looked up, and he could see that her eyes were a deep, golden brown, striking against her pale, freckled face. He scanned the rest of the group, and took in every detail that he could about each of them, while the quartermaster put the bus in reverse and slowly drove off. David remembered then why he still did this. He watched the awe-struck children admire the camp around them, and saw the world of opportunities that awaited them. He led them to the forest, where a girl with thick blonde hair excitedly pointed out every genus and species of tree she recognized from her botany books, and a boy wearing a towel as a cape tried to swing from their branches while Nikki chased him around and Neil and Max just laughed.

He watched them all run about, beneath the canopy of the endless, lush green forest, with their yellow shirts covered in dirt and their scraped-up knees, and knew that he was going to keep this camp running until the day he died.

~

Max was beginning to feel it- the dull ache that permeated his body and begged him to take a break. Lay on the ground. Anything but this.

He let go of the oar and ran a hand through the water off the side of the boat, feeling it cool against his skin. It was a welcome relief from the hot sun overhead and the blisters beginning to form on his palms. For a moment, Neil didn’t notice that he’d stopped paddling. Max watched the other man’s back as he continued on at full speed, sweat making his neck shine and his hair darken. Maybe he’d like a little refreshment, too.

Max scooped a handful of lake water and sent it flying forward onto Neil’s back. Neil sputtered and whipped around, dropping his own oars in surprise.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He demanded.

“Neil! The children.” Max bit back a grin, gesturing around at the other campers passing by in their canoes. Their shouts and the sound of splashing water were everywhere.

“Those _children_ are gonna beat us to the finish line if you don’t get your shit together and start rowing,” Neil said, picking up his oars again. But Max didn’t follow suit. He knew he’d have to start explaining sooner or later, but right now even the thought of moving more than a few inches was making him nauseous.

“That’s alright, you go on without me. I think I’ll take a nap,” Max said, closing his eyes and leaning back for good measure.

But Neil wasn’t taking any of it.

“Oh no you’re not,” he replied, taking hold of Max’s arm and pulling him forward. Max, not expecting that response, pulled back, and before either of them knew what was happening, they were floating beside their upturned canoe, lake water making their mouths taste like salt.

Neil got over his shock fast, and started to push at the boat’s corners, but they were heavy with water and didn’t oblige. Max, on the other hand, stayed worryingly still, just letting the tide pull him, until Neil frustratedly gave up on the canoe and dragged his friend to the shore. From there, Max tried to stand, and promptly vomited up what was left of his breakfast.

“Oh shit,” Neil said loudly, still not caring who heard. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”

Max wiped his mouth with his arm and looked up at Neil through his dripping wet hair.

“Nah,” he said. And vomited again.

~

It was around five o’clock when Neil visited Max for the third time, and this time he was carrying food. Max sat up in his bed and took it from him gratefully.

“You wanna tell me what’s really going on?” Neil prodded gently. Max bided his time, picking up bits of potato with his fork and pretending to chew them slowly. He knew that Neil, the massive smart-ass that he was, probably already had him all figured out, but it still felt wrong to just tell him. After all, he hadn’t told anyone. Until this summer he hadn’t had anyone to tell.

“Nothing,” he said finally. “I swear. I guess I just had something weird for breakfast.”

Neil glared.

“Bullshit.”

His eyes bore into Max’s skull. _I know you too well to just let this go_ , they said. _Spill._ He took a deep breath.

“Painkillers,” he said, not looking up from his plate. Neil nodded solemnly.

“That’s what I thought,” he said in a low voice. Max braced himself for the other shoe to drop. Inevitably, conversations like this always ended with the other person telling him off and throwing out the name of some rehab center or another. But not this time. Neil didn’t continue.

“You’re not mad?” Max asked after a moment. Neil met his gaze.

“Of course I am. You’re a fucking idiot and I have no idea what you were thinking doing something so stupid.” And there it was. Max gripped his fork tighter, the beginnings of a throbbing headache forming behind his eyes. “But I care about you a lot, Max. And I know it sounds dumb but I can’t let you hurt yourself like this anymore.”

This took him by surprise. Max had never known Neil to be so open, especially not with him, and he wondered what could possibly have triggered this shift. Maturity? Maybe. But he could also feel the tension as he let the words hang in the air, like Neil was bursting to tell him something else but couldn’t find the right moment. In the seconds while Max processed this, Neil sat down on the side of his bed, so that they were only a foot or two apart. Everything was still.

“Can I tell you something else?” Might as well, Max thought, while he was on the subject of embarrassing himself.

“Of course.”

“Remember when we were kids and I used to only want to hang out with you and Nikki?”

Neil laughed. “Yeah?”

“I was, like, in love with you, dude.”

Neil’s jaw dropped just a little, but Max was barely watching. It felt so strange to have said that out loud- the secret he’d kept deep inside for so many years, finally set free. His younger self would have been proud, he thought.

“In a weird way, I think I kind of knew,” Neil admitted. And suddenly Max’s younger self was horrified instead. Hell, Max’s current self was horrified.

“And you never said anything?"

“Well neither did you!”

“Damn.” They both stared at one another, the room starting to feel smaller and stuffier by the minute. The walls were pressing on them, the light from the window hitting them like a spotlight expecting a performance they hadn’t been given the script for. Max felt the next question before it even left Neil's mouth.

"And you're telling me this because you...still feel that way?" Max considered for a moment, then nodded. He didn't need to say anything further, because Neil understood. He always had. He leaned in, all warm and soft, and time slowed down. The seconds between those words and his lips on Max's were the longest seconds of Max's life. But it was at that moment that he realized everything had been worth it. The bleary-eyed highway driving, the long nights fueled only by gas station junk food and memories of the past, all the years of hiding and pretending and escaping.

The last person to speak was Neil, and he did so with stars in his eyes and an idea on his tongue. Fuck this camp. Fuck responsibilities.

“You got any more beer?”


End file.
